


On Stranger's Shores

by Daerwyn



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate History, American History, Colonial America AU, F/M, Gen, Historical AU, History, M/M, Multi, Revolution AU, Spies & Secret Agents, colonial AU, dark!Thranduil - Freeform, revolutionary war AU, sons of liberty - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 09:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8323465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daerwyn/pseuds/Daerwyn
Summary: American Revolution AU, mainly Hobbit characters. It all began with the dumping of tea. What happened next, no one was prepared for, but the revolution had begun, and there was no turning their backs, or calling truce. There was blood, there was sweat, and there would be tears. Hearts are torn in two directions, secrets must be carried across borders, and sides must be chosen.





	1. Black Kettles

_December 16, 1773  
_

The fog that settled on Boston’s harbor made the bowman’s visibility poor. The cloak he wore further helped him hide in the night. But the winter air was bitter, and even over the water, it felt numbing. Tightening his fingers on the oars gripped in his hands, he pushed the small row boat closer to the ship.

His grip was firm, thanks to the gloves his eldest daughter had knitted for him as the snow began to fall. Thick and woolen, exposing the tips of his fingers, but with a meticulously stitched leather palm, so that his grip would not falter. It was important for bargemen to have a secure grip, especially when balancing on their boats and hauling heavy materials onto larger ships or docks.

The men huddled in the boat ranged from fellow bargemen and traders to farmers, businessmen, and even those in the governor’s employ. Yet, there was one thing these men, and all of those in the rowboats trailing Bard, had in common. They were members of the Sons of Liberty, and with that came the civic duty to ensure that the people’s voices were heard. To make sure that the taxation had equal and meaningful representation in Parliament. And that every man, woman, and child had the rights and respect given to them by the governing body.

Despite lists of grievances, protests, and political stunts before, the unrest grew.

But those previous words meant nothing now. They would mean nothing once the morning came and the world would see that the colonies would take no more.

Bard stalled the boat alongside the trading ship, that had sailed more waters than Bard had ever dreamed of. The men eased the rowboat to the ladder, and then began to haul themselves aboard the ship, a rope quickly dropping down for Bard to secure the rowboat to to ensure that there would be no stranding of men.

He did not want Sigrid to even notice that he was gone for longer than an evening stroll.

Stepping off of the boat, and onto the ship, Bard took in the view of the city. Despite the fog, he could still see some glow. From the harbor, and on the deck of the ship, he could see almost everything. From the forests that were like a clouded blackness on the horizon, to the city, with the gas lamps giving off a yellow orange glow that made Bard, briefly, try to locate the home he and his three children tended to.

He could find nothing in the section he thought it was located. But his musings were interrupted by a sharp clap on the shoulder. Startled, Bard glanced over and saw the governor’s youngest son giving a fond look towards the city. “Take a good look, man,” Elrohir said with a tilt of his head. “By morning, everything’s going to change.”

War. They were inciting a war tonight. Bard had already fought in one war, and had raised two children during it. But his youngest, Tilda, had never known anything other than peace.

He had always wanted to keep it that way. But with the taxes only going higher, and their wages staying the same, he was struggling to ensure there was food on the table. And if this meant a better life for her in the long run, it was worth it.

Bard had to think of their futures. Sigrid, moving on from fifteen and almost a woman. Bain, a boy of thirteen growing up too soon. And Tilda, just turning on ten and as wild as she was in her earlier years.

This wasn’t any way to live.

Bard took one last glance at the city, sleeping and silent. The fog clung to the water, mostly, but especially around the ships. And did well to block out the noise of the men opening the cargo hold and using the levy system to haul the crates of tea to the main deck.

“Alright, men, let’s put our muscles to good use, then,” Elrohir called. “Haul it overboard!”

A man, boy really, holding a torch waved it, giving a signal to the other men on the other two ships in the harbor. And then Bard was moving, his hands helping pull the ropes, lift the crates, and haul them to the rail before they dropped off the side.

Box after box followed, splashing into the harbor, soaking it like a giant, black, frozen kettle of water. Brewing not only tea that the Sons of Liberty would happily ship back to the King of greed.

It was brewing a war.

Bard watched the crates bob alongside the ship, the air causing them to float as the water slowly seeped into the seams, and once the last crate was hauled over the side, there was a moment of silence. Complete and utter silence, to revel in the aftermath.

As Bard stood, feeling the winter’s bite cut across his cheeks, he could not help but feel a smile begin. And then the cheers broke out.

They had done it, and not only that, but Bard was certain that if they tasted the water now, it would taste of nothing but the bitter victory of impending wars.

But it was the small victories that counted.


	2. Sweetest of Brews

_December 17, 1773_

Lord Elrond woke just before dawn with a pit in his stomach. Usually, his mornings had a gap that was not filled until breakfast, yet today something was wrong. In the down bed, he took a breath in of the wintery morning, the drawn curtains around his bed keeping in a little warmth. But the warmth was not the same that it had once held.

Years ago, he would wake toasty on such a winter morning, the warmth of another body added to the room. But now, the chill reminded him of the absence that rested three lanes away from here. But it was not her absence that bothered him now. He sat up in bed, and upon opening the curtains, saw that it was not even dawn yet.

The shift settled to his knees as he stood, the stockings doing nothing to protect his feet from the frozen floorboards. He shuffled a few steps towards the fireplace, well tended by the servants in the night, for specific nights such as this. Elrond hovered a moment, his gaze lingering on the portrait above the fireplace. She always greeted him in the mornings, with her light blonde hair and rosy cheeks painted to her exact likeness.

At least, that was how he could remember her. He could not distinguish an artist’s interpretation from reality these days. It had been too long since she was before him to know for sure. But the pit in his stomach did not settle and he moved to his window, pulling back the curtain to look at the city he governed, and the lands beyond it. Boston.

The usual glow greeted him in the mornings, of carriages guided by lantern taking a morning stroll, or delivering morning goods. He loved his city, and the life and vibrancy that accompanied it. He loved the early morning ships coming into the harbor at dawn, and the light that would break across the horizon. He loved Massachusetts, more than he had ever loved England.

But his home was plagued with division. Already people had been murdered in the streets by those sworn to protect them. Already, people had gone to prison for speaking against the king or even Elrond himself.

It was a division he did not want under his legacy. He did not want war. He did not want more death and fighting. He cared for his family, and yet even his family had begun to divide. He could sense it during dinner, when his sons would talk in codes and his daughter would decipher them with ease to only return.

He had to put a stop from politics entering the dining area when Arwen had become so heated in the debate with her brothers, she had left the room an angry mess. He knew the three children still discussed them when he was not around, amused themselves with things they shouldn’t be talking of, but there was nothing further he could do.

He turned from the window, satisfied with the approaching sunlight, and opted to get ready for the day. His stomach told him that it would be long, and tiring. He hoped there was not yet another massacre.

Lord Elrond had just thrown on his jacket when a knock came from the door. Tucking his waistshirt in, he cleared his throat. “Enter.” Lindir, his closest advisor, stood in the doorway, a scroll in one hand.

“My Lord, I beg your pardon, but I’m afraid there are urgent matters to attend to.” Elrond ceased buttoning his jacket, taking the outstretched parchment from Lindir’s hand. Glancing down, he saw the harbor master’s seal. Almost immediately after recognizing it, bells began to ring in the harbor. Elrond glanced back up, showing confusion.

“Have you an idea of what the meaning of this is?”

“I’m afraid … someone has sabotaged the latest shipment, my Lord Elrond.” Elrond sighed, but broke the seal and scanned the contents of the document quickly. Dawnlight had barely broken through the window, so he had to take a step closer to his writing desk to read the hurried writing. The entire cargo hold had been thrown overboard overnight. There is no hint of anyone’s hand in the matter, but the suspected vigilantes of Liberty were behind it.

“I’ll be there at once. Ready the carriage.” Elrond set the letter down on his desk, and glanced to Lindir. The young man was only a handful years younger than Elrond himself, but they had been like brothers in their youth, and even still today. “I will be a few more moments.” He would have to excuse his breakfast until later. Perhaps he could get a piece of bread for the carriage ride to the harbor.

“Yes, my Lord Elrond.” Lindir gave a bow, exiting the room and clicking the bedroom door shut. Elrond waited a moment, holding his breath, before he exhaled in exhaustion. It never ceased to stop. Something was always happening in this God forsaken city. He finished buttoning his jacket, slipped his shoes on and moved once more to the window.

He could see the gathering crowd from here. The small boats that were trying to save what cargo they could floating in the water. He did not know what ships had arrived the day before, but he suspected valuables were amongst them.

His gaze dropped, however, to the path in front of the house where two very recognizable figures were rushing up the lane as quickly as they could, as if a fire was on their tails.

Elrond gritted his teeth. Of course.

He left his room quickly, his shoes leaving only small clicks against the cold wooden flooring, and then he was on stairs just as he heard the front door creak open.

“What have you two done?” Elrond demanded from the landing. He adjusted his cufflinks as he descended slowly, his gaze piercing on the two sons that froze in the foyer. Their attempt to sneak into the building never went unnoticed. And today of all days? Surely they would have been more careful.

“None of your concern,” Elrohir said plainly.

Elrond stepped off the last step, his gaze lingering at the eldest of the two boys, before it went to the youngest, who said nothing. Elladan’s gaze was over his father’s shoulder, his jaw clenched. “Well?”

“We made the king some tea,” Elladan said after a moment, a slight smirk coming to his face as he glanced towards his father. “I’m sure it’ll be strong enough for his tastes by the time he arrives.”

Elrond glanced to Elrohir, but the boy was already moving past his father towards the stairs. “What does that mean?” Elrond pressed. But already there was a foreboding in the dark way his son had said it. Elladan watched as his brother disappeared, his steps hurried and fast. “Elladan, I have asked a question.”

“Nothing,” Elladan said simply. “Nothing we should worry about it. In fact, I’d even go as far to say that we’ll never have to worry about them again. You were never much of a tea drinker.”

“Elladan, I will ask for a straight answer-”

“Brother!” Elrond’s interruption caused Elladan to smile. Elrond glanced back, seeing his only daughter at the top of the stairs. Her hair was done up, and she was already ready for the day.  

“Sweet sister,” Elladan greeted, glad the attention was diverted from himself for the time being, as Arwen rushed down the stairs in a speed that was not ladylike. But Elladan knew that she did not care in the slightest for any of that. She took his arms in her own, and gave him a light kiss to his cheek.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you all morning,” Arwen scolded lightly. “The bells have been ringing fiercely in the harbor and I wanted to know what was going on.”

“I took a stroll to the town, to get something for you,” Elladan answered smoothly, his eyes glancing briefly towards his father in a pointed way. Reaching into his jacket, he withdrew a small package wrapped in cloth. “For you, my lady.”

Arwen giggled, watching her brother bow, before she took the gift from him with a curtsey. “And what is this, brother?”

“This, sweet sister, is the very substance which keeps you so sweet.” Arwen lit up, glancing to Elladan before she moved away from him, to the table nearby. The package when opened showed her favorite treat.

“Berries? Oh, Elladan, you shouldn’t have gone through such trouble.”

“I’m afraid I can’t claim all the trouble, as Elrohir was just as guilty. Any trouble for you, Arwen, is worth it. Besides, I went to go scout to see what’s been going on at the harbor. I heard them as well, and left as soon as I could.” Arwen glanced to her brother startled. Elladan, taking a calm breath, glanced to his father. “It’s a tragedy, father. Some masked men in the night have thrown all of the tea into the harbor.”

Elrond’s confusion faded into a blank mask. It hid his fury that Elladan knew he was feeling. Fury because Elrond knew just as well as anyone that Elladan had played a part in it. But Arwen spoke before Elrond could muster a response.

“I suppose that’s a pity. My tea with Miss Tavers is likely to be canceled.” Elladan sent a brief, and unneeded smirk towards his sister. Arwen wrapped the berries once more. “I’ll have to go into town to decline the invitation, father. If you’ll spare me the foreman, as an escort-”

“No need, sister,” Elrohir spoke from the stairs. “I’ve just realized I’ve forgotten an order at the tailors.” Elrond rounded on the oldest son, knowing he was just as guilty as Elladan for the mess they had made in the Harbor. “I’ll escort you.” He dipped his head towards Lord Elrond. “I think we can all agree that discussing politics is best done away from Arwen’s company. She tends to go from sweet to devilish.”

Arwen laughed quietly. “I hope you do not mean to say that to me in front of Miss Tavers. You’ll see just how devilish the woman can be.”

“Best eat those berries on the walk then, Arwen,” Elrohir said lightly, taking her arm. “I’d hate for your light temperament to turn sour.”

Elrond waited until the door shut behind them before he rounded on Elladan. “What on earth is the meaning of this? Why would you dump tea into the harbor? Have you gone mad?”

“You started this,” Elladan insisted, following as Elrond scoffed and moved towards the sitting room. “You warned us all of the British holding more over us than anything. You published those letters-”

“The letters were a mistake-”

“You and Lindir wrote them years ago, and you knew tensions were rising. And you’ve started all of this.” Elrond sighed as he glanced away from his son. “You’re the one that has turned Gandalf to side with us,” Elladan insisted. “And that is exactly what we need to start this revolution.”

“Revolution?” Elrond echoed. “And what do you think they’ll do once they’ve heard of what you and your brother have done?” Elrond demanded. “What do you think will happen when they find out it was you?”

Elladan frowned. “No one saw us-”

“But the men that were with you. If they blockade the harbor? If they place Boston under siege?” Elladan looked as though he hadn’t considered that. If his own men turned against him? He thought of some of his dearest friends. Would they do the unthinkable to protect themselves and their families. Some he knew would value honor above all, but others he could not be so sure of. Some had young children that needed to be fed and cared for. “Even in your circle of friends, people will turn. And then we are all in danger. People will begin to accuse us of their family’s starvation, and we could be sent to prison - be forced to flee.”

“And those that went with us will know the truth. I could not sit idly by and let this happen any longer. We are still a people. We are not just some forgotten handkerchief that the King can wash his hands with!” Elladan insisted. He had to believe in his brothers in arms. If he could not, then what better was he than the British that had distrusted them in the first place?

“He is still our King-” Elrond returned sharply.

“Not for long,” Elladan countered. Elrond showed his surprise, but Elladan continued, taking a moment to compose himself. “Come this spring, I will be going to Philadelphia. I’ve already written to grandfather and grandmother and he has accepted my proposal.”

“Elladan, it is madness-”

“I can do more for our independent future there than I can here.” Elrond was silenced. “I’m sorry, but there is nothing you can say to change my mind. This was only the beginning. And I was not raised to sit in silence and ponder the tide. If I do not have a hand in changing it, then I am not doing as I was intended.”

Elrond swallowed, seeing that his son contained much of the strong resolve that his wife had years ago. She had managed the affairs while Elrond had been off at war, brutally and precisely. She knew her passions and what disagreements she’d fight to the death for. Elladan had always been the same, since he was young. Arwen had a touch of the resilience - showing more and more as she grew, but Elrohir was the most like Elrond’s self. Guarded, silent, contemplative.

The fact that he even participated in such a brash action as tossing tea overboard a ship floored Elrond. But he stared at Elladan, the one he knew would always play a hand in the unwise, for a minute, before nodding carefully. “Very well. Do what you need to do, but I will have no part of it.” Elladan blinked at his father, confused. “Come spring, you will go to Philadelphia, but you will not be associated with this house in your actions.”

“I don’t understand,” Elladan admitted.

“Elrohir will be given the same warning. He can either heed my advice and stop this antagonizing behavior, or he can follow your path and decide that war is a better option.” Elladan was at a loss for words. Was his father disowning him? “I have no doubt that you can do great things, Elladan. But you must think of your family before you do such things as throw tea overboard or-”

“I did think of my family,” Elladan returned sharply, cutting his father off. “I thought of Arwen when the price of tea became so high that not many could afford it. I thought of you when those people were murdered in the street for doing what they were given the right to do. I thought of mother when our grievances are being ignored, when your letters were treated as criminal acts. I thought of us when I threw those crates from the harbor. And the other families out there that helped, because they knew that if it began with tea, anything else could follow. If you want me out, I will be out. But I will not be silent.”

“As long as you do not make noise under my wing, then I do not care what you incite. I just ask you think of your actions, and the consequences,” Elrond beseeched. “I ask that you think of your own future before you say something. One day, you will have a family of your own that you look after. I do this now because of Arwen and your brother, and our livelihood here. Your grandfather will be just as strict with you as I.”

Elladan stared at his father a moment, reading his expression of utter sincerity. Come spring, he would be completely dissociated from the family. Come spring, his horse from Boston would carry everything valuable that he cared to keep within his name. Come spring, he would be joining the revolution his father had helped start. And his father would know him no more.

Elladan straightened. “I don’t regret throwing tea into that harbor. I regret that you have become malleable in your years.” Elladan did not wait for a response. He marched past his father, towards the stairs and said nothing more. Some rebellions were best left in silence.


End file.
